HIM Review: A Chilling Descent into Football’s Dark Side

The unsettling reality of head injuries in contact sports like football, and their potential to cause severe neurological damage, casts a long shadow over the new horror film “HIM.” The story follows Cameron Cade (Tyriq Withers), a promising young quarterback on the cusp of his professional debut. After a brutal skull injury sustained during a game, courtesy of a menacing, pagan-esque mascot, Cam’s world is thrown into chaos. His brain trauma seems to unlock a torrent of terrifying experiences: are they mere hallucinations, heightened post-trauma sensitivities, or is Cam truly witnessing something far more sinister unfold around him?

Directed by Justin Tipping, “HIM” skillfully doubles as a haunted-house thriller, with the “house” in question being a stark, Brutalist compound hidden deep within the Texas desert. This isolated stronghold belongs to Isaiah White (Marlon Wayans), the revered quarterback of the “Saviors.” In what appears to be a generous show of mentorship, Isaiah invites the still-recovering Cam to train with him. This crucial period leads up to the team owners’ decision: will Isaiah play another season, or will the torch be passed to Cam? For Isaiah, this is a deeply sensitive topic; he becomes visibly agitated when discussing the immense sacrifices he’s made to achieve his legendary status as the “GOAT” of football. For Cam, however, whose childhood was filled with his father’s obsessive replays of Isaiah’s games and brutal injuries, this is the moment he’s been working towards his entire life.

Isaiah’s malevolent aura is immediately apparent. We first encounter him ominously mounting an animal skull on his wall. His disturbingly nonchalant reaction to the increasingly bizarre events that follow only intensifies his menace. Cam finds himself repeatedly injected with a mysterious painkiller by Isaiah’s personal physician, while Isaiah’s influencer wife, Elsie (Julia Fox), glides through the compound like a chilling femme fatale, complete with bleached eyebrows. In one particularly unsettling scene, a group of heavily muscled, suspicious-looking men join Isaiah and Cam’s training session, and one of them with unnerving glee, allows himself to be relentlessly struck in the face by a football-throwing machine—all at Isaiah’s command.

The film deliberately blurs the lines between sports and religion. Passionate fans display unwavering faith, top athletes are revered as gods, and the entire high-stakes world of professional sports—from player drafts to roaring stadiums filled with spectators who seem to speak in tongues—is depicted as a series of rituals demanding ultimate devotion. “HIM” is anything but subtle in drawing these parallels, which wouldn’t be entirely detrimental if the script didn’t rely so heavily on Isaiah’s increasingly unhinged one-liners to drive the point home (claiming the locker room “smells like brotherhood” or declaring his priorities as “football, family, and God” in that specific order).

While the film boasts Marlon Wayans in an unexpected dramatic turn, portraying a believable yet not overtly terrifying antagonist. Perhaps the countless hits to the head on the field have dulled Isaiah’s edge, or perhaps his older, physically smaller stature compared to his disciple diminishes his imposing presence. Tyriq Withers, a former college football player, delivers a wonderfully innocent performance, though he remains largely in a wide-eyed, deer-in-headlights state throughout. The film’s dynamic, often disorienting editing style effectively plunges Cam into a vortex of mental turmoil. However, this same dizzying quality can sometimes make viewers feel trapped in an overly stylized music video rather than a compelling narrative. An excessive reliance on a constant stream of high-energy soundtrack music further detracts from the storytelling, as does the film’s frequently hollow stylization.

One truly effective stylistic choice is the recurring use of X-ray vision whenever Cam suffers a tackle. This visual technique, depicting the immediate cracking and swelling of bones, feels more viscerally violent than any blood-soaked scene. These brief, slow-motion sequences powerfully highlight the brutal physical toll on players, prompting us to question how they manage to continue. The most compelling implication is that only through intense psychological conditioning, or outright brainwashing, could such extreme levels of perseverance be cultivated.

“HIM” arrives with the backing of Monkeypaw, Jordan Peele’s production company, which has become a hallmark of modern Black horror. The narrative’s core—Black athletes performing as gladiators for powerful, often white, investors, while simultaneously fueling aspirational fantasies in younger Black generations—provides potent, politically charged nightmare fuel. Yet, “HIM” tends to take these profound themes for granted. Ultimately, the audience, much like the players trapped in a dimly lit stadium tunnel, is left retreading familiar concepts and fending off vague threats, yearning for more substantial dramatic engagement and action.

HIM

Rated R for needle injections, bloody violence and brutal athletic injuries. Running time: 1 hour 36 minutes. In theaters.